Crown of Thorns
by Chickeon
Summary: Given life by an unwilling mother and a cruel father, Briarrose is emotionally unstable and scarred. Others don't trust her, or pick on her because she doesn't live up to expectations. This she-cat couldn't possibly be the daughter of Brokenstar, could she?
1. Prologue

**A/N: Sorry about the formatting, for all ~15 people who saw that. I'm new to this site, so I didn't know that would happen.**

Darkflower laid on a bed of moss, painstakingly prepared and decorated with fresh flowers. Her paws were tied down with ivy. She looked around warily around the leader's den. She was in a dark corner, far back from the entrance. She felt a pang of pain, but kept her mouth shut. She knew what happened when she talked when _he_ wasn't around. She looked down at her distended stomach, bearing kits that will never truly be hers. She knew they weren't hers, despite carrying them for a little over a moon. They belonged to their father, and there was nothing she could do about that.

The already dim room went darker as a large tom entered. Darkflower tensed up as he made his way towards her. His amber eyes made primal fears rise in the dark she-cat. She felt her ties being undone, and something in her also be unbound. She missed the forest. She missed talking with her friends. She even missed the Carrionplace. Ever since _he_ forced motherhood onto her, she'd been stuck in the leader's den for most of her days. She went outside only on his supervision, talked only to those around him, and never left his sight. When he had to leave, he'd bind her up and leave her.

"You stay here," the tom said, "Agreed?"

Darkflower nodded solemnly. Even if she had an opportunity, her children made her too slow to have a chance of escaping.

"I'm getting the medicine cat. My kits are almost here."

Resting her head near some dandelions, she sighed. Soon, a grey tom came in. He sniffled in-between sentences as he made awkward conversation. The kits' father and the gray tom looked like antitheses of each other in every way. Darkflower could see the fear in the small tom's eyes. As soon as he caught her gaze, his ears perked up in surprise. Darkflower gave a weak smile in return.

"How are you feeling?" he spoke, sitting by the she-cat.

"As good as I can, Runningnose," she mewed. The tabby tom gave an emotionless smile.

"Seems like the kits will come at any second," he spoke as he turned to the other tom, "Are you ready to become a father, Brokenstar?"

He nodded. Darkflower felt another pang of pain, allowing herself to cry out. The medicine cat jumped to his feet and looked at her. He turned to Brokenstar, and both came to the mutual understanding that her pregnancy was ending. Through a difficult, painful kitting, she released his children to the world. After cleaning the three kits, she saw their coats. One was dark grey, nearly black, while the other two were dark tabbies. She felt relieved, as a flicker of something other than malice came into Brokenstar's eyes. Two of the kits were placed by her stomach.

"I'm sorry," he said, gently laying down the tabby kit on the edge of her bed, "This she-kit didn't make it."

Tears flowed from her eyes, but not out of sadness for the loss of a kit. They were tears of fright, of a mouse cornered by a fox. Runningnose said his goodbyes and left the two alone. Brokenstar stared at the dead kit, and then to the living ones, then back at the dead one. He glared at the stillbirth, then at Darkflower.

"At least I have two kits out of this," he spoke, no emotions in his voice. "The black one will be called Crowkit, and the other one will be called Briarkit."

"What about the other one?" Darkflower whispered, ears flattening and voice shaking in fear.

"You name it."

Her tears came out of her eyes like the water pouring from the Falls. Staring at the dead tabby, she gave a small mew of "Bramblekit."

Brokenstar took Bramblekit into his mouth and took her outside. Darkflower curled around her kits, weeping quietly as she fell asleep.


	2. The Kit With a Blank Stare

Near a large oak tree stood a small, dark brown tabby she-kit. Her eyes, as blue as the sea, held no sparkle of wonder or amazement. She held a blank stare as she walked around camp, looking at all her clanmates. Some of the queens stood outside of the nursery, sharing tongues and preening each other. Her eyes were drawn to the apprentices' den, which sent a shudder down her spine. The thought of battle paralyzed her. Gulping down her anxiety, she went over to the queens. Dawncloud eyed the she-kit and spoke.

"Hey Briarkit," she purred in welcome, "I heard Brokenstar is considering making you and your brother apprentices soon."

"You'll love it," Brightflower chimed in, cleaning her paws off, "Warrior training was fun for me, but I think you're a better fit for that kind of stuff than I was."

"Well, you do love kits, Brightflower," Dawncloud responded. Her eyes widened and glittered in surprise as she remembered something. "Briarkit, how's… Darkflower?"

"F-fine," Briarkit mewed sweetly, yet full of uncertainty and fear.

"I don't understand what she sees in Brokenstar," Dawncloud said, turning to face the tabby queen beside her, "Her fur always bristles when he's around. I rarely get to see her anymore."

"Look at Briarkit," Brightflower whispered to her friend, "Look at how scared she is. Do you think he…?"

"Can I play with Redpaw and Tawnypaw?" Briarkit spoke, looking like she was on the verge of tears.

"You don't need to ask! I'm sure they won't mind."

As Briarkit trotted off, the two queens continued their conversation about Brokenstar, his mate, and his children. Meanwhile, the dark tabby she-kit lumbered over to where the two apprentices were playing. Thankfully for Briarkit, they were playing mossball. Redpaw seemed to struggle with it, pouncing all over the place and getting angry when she missed. Tawnypaw, by contrast, looked bored, and bat the moss-covered rock with ease. The two stopped batting the ball back and forth and looked at Briarkit when she drew close.

"Can I play?" she mewed, in an emotionless voice, her eyes dead cold and trained on Redkit.

"Um, sure," Redpaw said, backing away slightly from the she-kit. The kit creeped her out, and all she wanted was some peace after training.

"Can we pretend-battle now?" yawned Tawnypaw, lazily looking at the tabby in front of her sister.

"Fine," Redpaw sighed. Briarkit's heart sank, but her desire to have any friends made her stay.

"Alright!" Tawnypaw bounced from her belly and onto her paws. "I'm going to be a ShadowClan warrior!"

"I'm a RiverClan warrior!"

"Briarkit, you can be… a WindClan warrior! Ready, begin!"

Her heart began to pound as she saw the two kits jump on top of each other. She remained frozen in fear as she saw Redpaw paw playfully at her sister's face. Tawnypaw flung her off and turned her attention to Briarkit and jumped on her back. Reflexively, she unsheathed her little back claws and kicked as hard as possible. She felt her claws tear into the she-kit, blood spilling out from the gash in her chest. Redpaw attacked back in revenge, moving in to bite her. Briarkit was small and agile, ducking under her and sinking her teeth into her pelt. She screamed as blood poured from the puncture. The irony taste of her blood was disgusting, and as soon as she tasted it, she let go. She saw both Tawnypaw and Redpaw running over to their mothers, crying and pointing at Briarkit. Their once warm faces twisted into rage, grief, and horror all rolled into one. In panic, she bolted, but instead found her face planted firmly in the pelt of someone very large and familiar.

She stepped back and watched her father pad over to the queens and their crying kin. They talked for a while, gathering looks from passerby as the queens cried out. After a few minutes, he returned to her and picked her up. He took her past the thickets that guarded camp and onto the swampland ShadowClan claimed. He set her down and eyed her, amber eyes scanning the kit as she shivered in the leaf-bare wind. For the first time in forever, Brokenstar gave the kit a smile. A faint one, but still a smile.

"You're shaping up to be a powerful warrior, Briarkit," he purred.

"I… I am?" she said. She was braced for the impact of his claws on her pelt like what happened when Darkflower said something wrong.

"Of course. They're several moons older than you. With a little work, you'll be undefeatable in battle."

"Really?" she mewed, eyes gaining the kit-like sparkle they had been missing.

Brokenstar nodded, motioning towards the entrance with his tail, "Don't mind those queens."

"Hey Brokenstar?" Briarkit asked, her mews filled with excitement, "When will I become an apprentice?"

He gave her a smirk as they entered camp. "Now."

She bounded after her father as he got upon the Highstone and called for all cats able to catch their prey. Apprentices, warriors, and queens gathered at the bottom, coats rippling slightly due to the slight breeze. Colorful leaves washed over the camp like waves. She bounced up the Highstone and sat a tail-length away from her father. He turned to her and gave her a look of satisfaction. Pride, even.

"Briarkit, you have proven yourself worthy of being apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known Briarpaw. I will be your mentor. I promise to give her all the knowledge I know."

He touched noses with her, causing the she-cat to purr. The clan called out her new name, all except the two queens. As the crowd dispersed, the two climbed down and went back to the leader's den, a proud father and a happy apprentice.


End file.
